


The Reluctant King

by TeamTormund



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Complicated Relationships, F/M, Post Season 6, nudity & sex a mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-11-26
Packaged: 2018-07-29 18:13:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 10,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7694440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeamTormund/pseuds/TeamTormund
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three unlikely couples, three different stories, one happy end?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tormund/Brienne I

**Author's Note:**

> I know nothing and own even less.
> 
> This is my first fanfic EVER and english is not my first language. So brace yourself for a very slow and bumpy ride. I will humbly receive everything you want to throw at me.

"I'm not going to kneel!”

 "You don't have to. I need people I could trust. Especially at Last Hearth, ‘couse it's the nearest to the Wall."

 They were in the Great Hall. Jon und Sansa sitting at the lord’s table and Brienne standing at Sansa' side. Tormund was in front of them, thumbs tucked into his belt, the usual grin on the  damaged face.

  _Seven Hells! Accept it and be gone._

 Ever since Brienne came back he continued his vulgar behavior - following her, staring and even attempting to talk. She ignored him constantly, but it seemed to only encourage him more.

 "Would be niddin' a proper lady then." - Tormund fixed his eyes on Brienne's face, grinning from ear to ear.

  _What? How dare you…_

 Brienne could feel Jon's and Sansa's eyes upon her too. She kept looking strait forward to the door at the far end of the hall. But she couldn't prevent the heat creeping up her cheeks and ears.  In frot of her mind's eye Brienne saw herself leaping over the table and slicing the damn wildling in half with a single stroke.

 Jon shifted uncomfortably in the lord's chair and cleared his throat. "Whom you marry...or not, isn't my concern. Do you accept my offer?"

 Unwillingly Tormund brought his eyes to look back at Jon. “I’ll talk to my people.”

 He started his way to the door, as it opened an the maester stepped in. “A raven from Tarth for lady Brienne.”

 She had to read it twice, the tight-written lines dancing before her eyes.

  _No! That can’t be…_

 Finally Brienne looked up from the paper, justto find everyone staring at her in silence. She opened her mouth to ask if she may leave, but her voice betrayed her. So she just stormed for the door…


	2. Tormund/Brienne II

Brienne was standing on the southern ramparts, gazing into the gathering dusk. She couldn’t recall for how long now, but her body was numb from the cold.

“Brienne…”

She jerked at the sound of Sansa’s voice. She hadn’t noticed her lady’s approach. Her mind must have gone numb too.

“My Lady, I must apologize…”

“No. I’s all right” Sansa cut her off. “The maester told us”.

_Of course…_

Sansa came to stand next to Brienne. They both were looking upon the darkening land in silence, there was no need for words.

It was Sansa, who finally spoke. “Do you know him?”

“Yes.” Brienne left out a deep sigh.

 _He was at that forsaken ball, the first and last in Brienne’s life. The third son of a small house. With a marriage as the only chance to get a lordship. And still it was him, who first called her “Brienne the Beauty”. He certainly got something to hear from his father on missing such an opportunity. And now he finally got his chance. Using her father’s age and sickness to usurp her home. Calling it “fulfilling duties, which a daughter had abandoned”._

 "Jon would give you men to reclaim you home…”

“But they all are needed in the war to come. And that’s why I’m staying too.”

Sansa’s eyes shot wide open. “But your father?” Brienne’s face hardened “They would’n dare to harm him.” Sansa nodded and then continued, giving a warning look to a shadow, silently moving behind Brienne’s back. ”And this strange marriage arrangement?”

_Yes, the arrangement. “In a moons time our wedding should take place. With or without your presence.”_

 Brienne shook her head “It doesn’t matter.” The shadow behind her back stirred. “We can send a raven, saying you are already married to a northern lord” Sansa pressed on. “I’m sure some…”.

“My lady” Brienne cut her off. “There is no need to force one of your people into this. Like I said, it doesn’t matter to whom I’m married. It’ll be all the same…for me.” She turned away from Sansa, making clear there is nothing to talk about.

Sansa let out a sigh, giving the shadow an apologetic look. “But maybe there is someone, to whom it does matter.” she said, before turning to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next one is going to be little difficult. Could take a while.


	3. Tormund/Brienne III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for everything.

Tormund was sitting near the hearth, occupying the only chair in her chamber. Brienne’s hands instinctively moved to her sword.

“So afraid of an unarmed man, _my lady_?” His tone was more then icy, the last words pressed through gritted teeth. “Wanna call your boy to tie me up?”

Brienne grimaced but let her arms fall to her sides, although his tone was unsettling. “What are you doing here?”

“Sitting. Thought you wouldn’t notice. Somehow I seem to be invisible to you.”

_Would he never stop his games?_

Brienne said nothing and averted her eyes from him.

_Just leave…_

He didn’t. So they both remained where they were, motionless and in silence.

“So, a puny southern fucker don’t even need to ask you to be his wife? He just tells you that and you are happy to obey? Thought better of you, _my lady_.”

_How does he know?_

“You don’t understand.” She managed to press out of her suddenly dry throat.

“Aye, I really don’t.” Now there was sadness in his voice.

“There is nothing I can do.”

“There is.”

“No.”

“There is!”

_Why are you doing this to me?_

“This is non of your business. Why do you even care? What do you want?” Brienne’s voice was no more than a whisper, she felt suddenly completely exhausted.

“You.” Tormund stood up, his eyes locking with hers. “Your strength, your skills, your size. I wont you the way you are.” A dull ache begun to grow in Brienne’s chest. “I want you to fight by my site.” Her knees trembled, threatening to give away any moment. “I want you to borne me strong children, that would survive the winter.” Tormund now stood just before her. His eyes still dark and serious. Brienne wasn't able to do anything but staring back at him in disbelief. He couldn't have just said _all this to her._..

Suddenly Tormund broke his eye from her, and if it was the only thing holding Birenne upright, she collapsed on her knees. He didn’t make any move to help. Instead, he stepped past her to the door “I’m leaving for the Last Hearth the day after tomorrow”.

Brienne heard him closing the door and then everything went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seven Hells, my english is so bad!  
> This chapter was a pain in the ass. I'm still not happy with it, but have no idea how to improve. Hope you could enjoy it nonetheless. Or at least understand. xD


	4. Tormund/Brienne IV

Brienne had forbidden herself to dream about her wedding while she was still a child. But even if there were any dreams, they certainly would’t be anything like what was happening right now. The pale winter dawn hadn’t given the world any colors. Everting was grey, except the red leaves on the tree, Brienne stood in front of. There was a small sept in Winterfell, but no one who could perform a proper ceremony. And there was no time for any fancy preparations, so Brienne was wearing her normal clothes…and her armor. Podrick was holding her sword. She was surpriced by his determination not to give it to her until after the ceremony. 

Brienne wasn’t listening to the Jon’s words and she only realized it was over, as she felt the weight of an heavy fur cloack on her shoulders. She was married. Brienne hastily took her sword from Podrick, as Sansa murmured some well-wishes. It was high time to join the group at the gates of Winterfell, if they wanted to make it to Last Hearth before the dark.

They were riding as fast, as the winter roads allowed. The most of the Free Folk and former Umber’s men, who pledged themselves to the King in the North, left yesterday. So the new home should have been made ready to welcome them.

Brienne was staring at the mane of her horse, trying not to think about everything what happened and was about to happen yet. She hadn’t seen Tormund after their encounter. She was told, he insisted for the wedding to be postponed till this morning, although he wouldn’t tell the reason why. Nonetheless, the raven to Tarth was already send, announcing that “Lady Brienne of Tarth is married to Lord Tormund of the House Giantsbane”.

_Lady Giantsbane…_

Brienne grimaced. This gonna be an even bigger joke, then “Brienne the Beauty”. 

***

The Last Hearth was much smaller then Winterfell, darker, more oppressive. Even the many camping-fires around it’s walls and torches in the yard didn’t help it to look more welcoming.

Brienne was still on the back of her horse, trying to get a better look of this place, not really knowing what to do. Tormund’s ginger head was easy to spot from Brine’s high point. He was already busy, surrounded by some wildlings. He left her with Podrick for the whole time of their journey, and Brienne was thankful for that. But now she felt abandoned in this crowded yard.

“M’lady…”

Brienne looked down to an elderly woman in a servant’s dress.

“My name is Neth, I was told to bring you to your room and be at you service”. Brienne nodded with a sigh of relief and dismounted.

This was certainly the lord’s chamber. Quite big and tidy, with a stone hearth and a big sturdy bed, which made Brienne gulp an turn away. Podrick helped her to remove the armor but then was forced to leave by Neth. She brought diner and helped Brienne to undress an clean herself. And then she left too.

Brienne was standing by the hearth with her back to the door, as Tomund entered the room. She hadn’t moved, but he saw her whole body stiffens. She was still wearing her undershirt and breeches, both laced up tight. Tormund smiled under his beard, as he begun to remove his furs.

Brienne closed the eyes and clenched her fists, as she felt Tormund’s breath at the back of her neck and his hands under her shirt.

_Please, let it quickly be over._

She gasped, as his hand dove into her breeches.

“I promise, it wouldn’t hurt…much.”


	5. Tormund/Brienne V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry...

Brienne was awake, listening to the soft cracking of the fire and an occasional snore of the man lying beside her, their bare shoulders touching. Her husband… She dared not to move, afraid of waking him up.

He kept his promise. The pain at his entry was barely noticeable. Actually, if Brienne compared it to the various injuries she suffered throughout the years of sword fighting, she wouldn’t call it pain at all, just a brief moment of discomfort. Now she was wondering, why the old wives back on Tarth would have made such a fuss about it? Listening to their gossips, Brienne imagined the act as something utterly unbearable. And no one never mentioned the other things…

…the things Tormund did to her with his hands… and mouth…

_Holy Seven…_

The memory made Brienne shiver. She was certain, those have to be some strange savage customs a lady should never now about, even less let them happen. But she did. And she liked it, a lot. How could her body betray her like that? Let her moan and scream, and then go over the edge with pleasure…

“You’re alright?” Brienne jerked, ripped out of her thoughts. Tormund was watching her with serious eyes.

“I..ah…yes…I’m…yes…yes.” He kept watching her for a moment and then smiled slightly. “Good.” He turned on his side, propping himself on one elbow. “Wasn’t quite what you expected, huh?” he said with a smirk.

Brienne could feel her face turning pink. She opened her mouth, but couldn’t find any word and just nodded. Tormund’s grin grew wider. “I promise, it’s going to be even better. And as you learned, I keep my promises.” He slid his hand over Brienne’s belly, which made her stiffens. Tormund’s smile became slightly sad “The is no need to be afraid of me.”

His last words made Brienne feel guilty. She inhaled deeply, gathering all her strength “I’m not…I just herd things…about _it_ …back home…sounded terrifying…” Tormund laughed quaetly, the sadness was gone “You southerners have really strange customs.”

He then pulled Brienne to himself, pressing her back to his chest. “Sleep now, I need your pretty head to be clear tomorrow.” “Why?” Brienne shifted a little, to lay more comfortable. “You have to teach me how to be a lord of a castle.”


	6. Tormund/Brienne VI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was a pain in the ass! But at least it's longer.

The following fortnight was busy. Getting everyone settled, distributing duties, soothing conflicts.

Tormund really had no idea how to be a lord of a castle. But what was even worse, he actually didn’t want to became one. As Brienne tried to teach him what she had learned from her father, Tormund ether laughed or cursed. But mostly he would just ask “Why?” and look at her like a child, that asks why the sky is blue. And to Birenne’s utter embarrassment, she had no answers, except that it was done like this for centuries. And sometimes Brienne wondered if it really has to be this way?

***

The day after their arrival Brienne set out for a ride to get a batter look of the castle and the landscape around it. She was at the stables, making the horse ready as Tormund came in, looking for her.

“This can wait till ’morrow. You shouldn’ be riding today.”

“Why?”

“It’s gonna hurt.”

_Is he mad?_

_“_ I’m riding since I’m four and…” Tormund stepped closer, his hand brushed her between the tights. “Today it’s gonna hurt.”

He turned to leave, but Brienne grabbed his hand, her eyes wide with sudden realisation. “The wedding… You postponed it…” He just smiled warmly and left.

There it was again, the dull ace in her chest.

_Had he really done that for me?_

 The next day Tormund introduced his daughters Munda and Ursula to her. Although Brienne remembered hearing something about him having children, to meet them in person was completely different. The girls were ten and seven, both ginger, wiry and too tall for their ages. They nearly killed each other, deciding who’d be the first to hold Brienne’s sword. Since then they would follow her every step, joining in her training with Podrick, urging to tell them stories about her “adventures”. It was just a couple days later, as they called her “Mother” at diner and Brenne almost chocked on her food. 

***

Brienne stood in her chamber, clad in full armor, adjusting Oathkeeper at her belt. Today a great meeting was summoned, to finally discuss their plans for the winter. Many of the Free Folk and Umber’s men (Brienne still couldn’t get accustomed to call them “our men”) were gathered in the yard. Tormund had already gone there and it was time for her to join him.

“My lady, your husband said you should wear this.” Brienne turned to face Podrick holding a fur cloak. It was big and seemingly heavy for him to hold. And it was beautiful - white, with leather strips covering every seam and an enormous fur collar. Brienne let her fingers sink into the long fell, it appears to be from a bear, but she never sought bears with white fell. Podrick heaved the cloak onto her shoulders. She straitened her back to better adjust to the additional weight and looked down at herself. She must have been looking ridiculous, the damn thing made her appear twice as big. Brienne threw a quick sideglance to Pod, the boy was standing there with his mouth agape and the eyes wide with awe. Brienne sighed.

“Time to go”.

_Seven Hells and Heavens…_

As Brienne stepped into the yard, the noises of the gathered crowd began to fade. By the time she took her place behind Tormund and slightly to the left, exactly where a wife belonged, there was a deep silence and everyone was looking at her. Tormund turned to look at her too, his eyes shining…with pride? And then he stepped back to stand beside her. The crowd began to move again. The Northerners were straightening their shoulders, the Free Folk were sizing her up with their eyes an nodding do each other in approval…

_This is not how it supposed to be…_

The crowd was still shouting and cheering, as Brienne fled into a hall.

_The White Lady!_

Her eyes were burning with tears, the heart trying to break through her ribs. The ace in her chest, that was building up during the past days finally overwhelmed her. She just wanted to curl herself up in some corner and cry, she needed to be alone, but Tormund came right behind her. Brienne tried to push him away, but he pressed her against the wall and crushed his mouth onto her’s. He never kissed her like this before, hungrily, almost violent, threatening to suffocate her. As he finally pulled away, they both were breathless. He cupped her face with his hands, using the thumbs to wipe away her tears.

“You see? They lovin’ ya! As do I…”

 As they were in bed this night, Tormund forced Brienne on top of him. The look in his eyes let her tremble.

”Ride me..."

This was the most satisfying thing, seeing him underneath her, feeling his painful grip on her hips, as he guided her movements. They certainly were heard throughout the entire castle, but for the first time Brienne didn't care. And as Tormund cried out her name, it was enough to send her over the edge.

Later that night Brienne stood at the window, leaning with one shoulder against he wall. She slipped out of bed naked and now the cold began to creep under her skin. Brienne was afraid the utter peace she was feeling right now would disappear if she’d moved. The next moment Tormund wrapped his arms around her and the big fur blanket around hem both. She hadn’t heard him leaving the bed and coming closer, the sneaky hunter he was. Brienne part hated, pard admired him for those skills. She leaned back onto him, resting her head on his shoulder.

“You’re alright?”

“More then alright…”

“Hm?”

“I think, I’m happy…”

 It was still dark, as the door to their chamber flew open and the leader of the night patrol stumbled inside.

“M’lord! We found Bran Stark!”


	7. Jon/Daenerys I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daenerys came to Winterfell only with Drogon and ten swiftest Dothraki riders. The rest of her army is three days behind.

They all were kneeling before her. At least _this_ happens like Daenerys expected. The rest was just about to turn into a mess.

Despite everything Tyrion and Varys have told her about Jon Snow, Daenerys found herself absolutely unprepared for the reality. The King in the North was merely older then herself, handsome and with the most dark and sad eyes she’d ever seen. Those eyes took her completely off-guard. Daenerys felt the sudden urge to comfort Jon, to cradle him in her arms and to say that everything it going to be alright. She didn’t know how she managed to overcome this feelings and continue with the formal greetings. But now another problem introduced itself, the cold.

Again, despite all the warnings, Deanerys was not prepared. As she was flying here atop of Drogon, the heat of his body protected her from the cold. And now she was standing in a middle of a frozen landscape in a dress, shivering and cursing herself for the foolish attempt to impress the Northernes. 

“Your Grace… you’re freezing!” Jon was looking at her wide-eyed. Next moment he stepped closer, taking the cloak from his shoulders and wrapping it around her. His eyes were now too close to hers, Daenerys could feel them pulling her in. An then there was a flicker of panic in Jon’s eyes. Realizing his audacity, Jon jerked his hands from the collar of the cloak he was still holding and was about to drop back to his knees.

“Your Grace!…forgive me…I’m…”

“No…please…” Daenerys reached out to stop him, but managed only to grab his gloved hand.

“The is no need for an apology among equals, _Your Grace_.” She could feel Jon shudder at the last words. “I thank you for your kindly concern. But may I suggest that we move to somewhere more sheltered?”

“Of corse, Your Grace.” Jon moved to lead Daenerys inside the walls of Winterfell, not quite realizing he was still holding her hand. Daenerys followed obediently, thankful for the opportunity not to speak for a while. She needed to think. To think about why such a simple gesture of offering a cloak shuttered her to the core.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long waiting and the short chapter. I was on vocation and then I've struggled again with the writing. I've planned to do a chapter to connect this one to the previous, explaining what was going on in King's Landing and how Bran would tell Jon about his true parents. But the damn thing just wanted not to be written. So I have to drop you again somewhere in the middle of nothing. I'm very very sorry.


	8. Jon/Daenerys II

Daenerys let herself fall into a chair with a sigh of relief. She finally persuaded lady Sansa to leave. Since Daenerys' arrival Jon’s sister was busy making the best impression she could. Lady Sansa seemed to be ambitious, thinking of herself as a player in this game of powers. Daenerys smiled, she already knew how to bait this purse-proud girl.

_He deserves to have some fun..._

Daenerys gladly accepted one of the warm wool dresses, lady Sansa offered her, but refused to change Jon's cloak to something more suitable for a woman. The memory of Jon wrapping it around her, let a unfamiliar warmth spread in Daenerys’ chest. She watched him closely since then, trying to figure out his game. But there was none. There was no lie in Jon’s sad eyes, only pure kindness and innocence. Somehow Deanery knew, he would have done the same, if she were a peasant.

_I need to know, if I am right about him._

Daenerys stepped hastily to the door and swung it open. A bypassing maid jumped at her sudden appearence.

“Bring me to King Jon.” 

***

The chamber was dark and small. The most space occupied by a large table, currently overflowed by a mess of books and parchment scrolls, and a narrow bed, pressed with the long side to the bare stonewall. Daenerys was sitting in the only chair in the room, Jon insisted on it. He himself stood before her, leaning against the wall with his back, arms crossed over the chest.

_He looks like a cornered animal…_

“I never asked for this. I do not deserve it.”

“And still people keep choosing you to lead them.”

Daenerys was again feeling the need to comfort him. And that made her a bit angry. He was a king, that refused to act as one. She came here to meet an equal, but instead seems to mother a scared boy.

"Sansa is the true ruler of the North. I would have rejected the title, if... If I hadn't seen the horrors beyond the Wall. I don't want to be a king, but the lords here a stubborn. If this title can unite them, can lead them into battle against the Night's King, then I should carry it." Jon finally raised his eyes to meet hers and Daenerys' blood froze in her veins. No, he was not a scared boy, he was a man who'd seen the greatest of horrors. Daenerys stood up and took a few steps towards him, although her knees were shaking. She wanted to lay her hands an Jon's shoulders, but, to her own surprise, they ended up cupping his face. There was again that flicker of panic in his eyes.

"Your Grace..."

" _Jon_ , you wouldn't be facing those horrors alone. _I'm with you_. I hadn't become the queen to abandon my people the next moment. We'll fight together for _our_ people, for those, who'd put their trust in us. And for the life itself."


	9. Jon/Daenerys III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's short. Sorry.

"I'm not going to tell her! We cannot risk this alliance, not now."

"But she needs to know." Sansa's voice grew more desperate. "You're the only family she has."

"And a living reminder why she lost the rest of it." Jon leaned heavily on the table, pressing the knuckles of his clenched first into the hard wood. "She lost everything, because her brother has chosen lust over duty." He let out a shattered breath, his voice becoming a whisper. "And I'm the product of it."

"But it's not your fault. And they were in love." Sansa stepped closer, reaching out to place her hand on Jon's shoulder but in this moment he turned around, placing his hands on her shoulders.

"Sansa, you _will_ rule the North. I've already spoken to the Queen. When all this is over and there is still a North to rule, _it will be yours._ "

Sansa's eyes grew wide with shock. "Jon! I... No... I didn't meant to... I just..." Jon smiled sadly. "It will be yours. But until then, please let it be. The Night's King is..." Jon closed his eyes and shook his head, as if trying to fight off a thought or memory. "You don't want to know. And I'll try my best to protect you from him. To protect anyone." He let his arms fall to his sides and stepped past Sansa to the small window of his chamber.

"Good night, Sansa"

"Good night."

***

Daenerys' entire body was shaking, she almost couldn't breathe.

_Where am I?_

She was sitting among the roots of the strange white tree, still clutching one of them in her sweaty hand. The crippled boy looked at her without any expression, like he looked at everything at any time. Daenerys was afraid of him from the first moment. But as he asked to see her, she let the girl, Meera, lead her to him, here.

“What was that?” She tried not to let her voice tremble and failed.

“It happened yesterday, after you left.” His voice was emotionless like his face.

“Why are you showing me this?”

“He would have never told you.”

“So you can see the future too?” Daenerys finally managed to calm herself. She set up straight, lifting her chin and trying to look as emotionless as the boy.

“No. But I know my… Jon.”

“And so you're betraying him, by spelling his secret.”

The girl stepped closer, opening her mouth to obviously defend the boy. But he stopped her by raising his hand, his eyes never leaving Daenerys’ face.

“No more then you, by not telling him, that you knew it before you came here.”


	10. Jon/Daenerys IV

Jon discovered it as a child, the low door leading to the very heart of Winterfell, where the hot spring came to the surface. The air in the chamber was thick with steam from the boiling-hot water in the small round pool. No one ever came here, the heat being unbearable for a human being, except for him. He never told it anyone.

Jon lowered his body into the small pool, spreading his arm along the rim and letting his head lean back on the damp stones of the floor. Being away from Winterfell, this was what he missed the most - the sensation of dissolving in this water. Every feeling and thought leaving his body and mind, letting him float in a peaceful emptiness. This were the most precious moments in his entire life. Sadly, they never lasted long.

***

Daenerys came down the narrow stairs, holding a glass-covered oil lamp. This dark passage caught her eye, as she was about to enter the bathing chamber. The low door at the bottom of the stairs stirred her curiosity even more. It opened without a sound on the seemingly well-oiled hinges, a cloud of hot steam bursting through the opening. And behind it Daenerys could see flickers of a deem light, like the one from her own lamp. She opened the door wider.

Daenerys immediately recognized his raven locks and milk-pale skin. Panic let her heart skip a beat.

_What happened to him?_

She rushed in, the thick air let her move without a sound, and stopped abruptly before the pool.

_He's alive!_

Jon's chest moved steady up an down, following his deep breaths. There was no sign, that the heat affected him in any way. His skin didn't turn red, not even pink. Except for the view lines of fresh scars on his stomach and chest. Daenerys swallowed hard, one was right in fron of the heart.

_So this whisper is also true._

But what surprised her even more, was the expression of utter peace on Jon's face. Daenerys had never seen him like this. Even when Jon smiled, he managed to remain worried and sad. She hesitated for a heartbeat. Should she leave him have his moment of peace? But a more perfect opportunity to speak about such delicate matters may never occur. Tomorrow the Lord of the North should begin to arrive at Winterfell and the day after - her army. And so Daenerys discarded her clothes and stepped into the pool, trying her best not to cause the water to ripple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Went a bit off-canon here. In the books Jon burned his hand, but I can't recall something like that in the series.


	11. Tyrion/Sansa I

Sansa stopped pacing up and down her chamber and sat on the bed. Her fingers immediately begun to fumble nervously with the blanket. Daenerys came to talk _to her_. Sansa was flattered beyond measure, but the followed conversion shuttered her confidence completely.

***

"Did you know that Jon would have rejected the kingship to your favor, if we weren't on the brink of war with the Night's King?" Daenerys let her eyes wander through the interior of the room, intensionally not looking at Sansa, her voice sounded casual.

"Yes, Your Grace."

"And did you know, that should he survive the war, he will resign. Again, to your favor."

"S-survive?" Sansa's voice trembled.

"Should he fall, the title will be yours automatically. Of course we all are hoping it wouldn't happen that way, aren't we?" This time Daenerys looked directly in Sansa's eyes and smiled, but only with her lips.

"Of cause, Your Grace! I'll pray for it." Sansa failed not to let her voice tremble again.

 _She's getting nervous. Good_.

"I tend to agree with the King's decision. Although some may say it's far to much power for one woman - to rule the North and be married to Queen's Hand and the heir of Casterly Rock."

"M-married to Queen' s Hand?" Sansa's eyes flew wide open.

"You were married to Lord Tyrion Lannister, weren't you?" Sansa could do nothing in response but to nod. "Well, since your second husband passed away so conveniently..." Daenerys paused for a heartbeat to watch Sansa's face losing its colors. "...your first marriage is restored in its power. If _he_ still wants you." There came no response from Sansa. It seemed she even stopped to breathe. "But I think Tyrion understands perfectly the advantages of such an alliance. Your family would be the most powerful in Westeros and your children will be the first candidates to marry the heir to The Iron Throne."

_Got you!_

"Your Grace, you too generous." Sansa's voice was barely hearable.

"Maybe. I like to reward people, who proved their loyalty to me. But I may be equally ruthless to those who betrays me."

Daenerys walked over to Sansa and took her hands, forcing her to stand up. "Whatever Lord Baelish thinks he can offer you, it's not worth it." Daenerys gave Sansa's hands a reassuring squeeze. "There is now a queen on The Iron Throne, in Dorne and on the Iron Islands. A Queen in the North would fit in perfectly, don't you think?" Daenerys smiled and Sansa's face lit up in response. "Tyrion should arrive here with my army the day after tomorrow. Think about it." Daenerys winked.

"So, where can I take a bath?"


	12. Jon/Daenerys V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gods, this was a slow cooker. ^^  
> Hope you like it anyway.

Jon opened his eyes the moment he felt the water moving against his chest. He was instantly alerted, but needed a moment for his eyes to focus. And there it was again - the panic in his eyes.

“Y-y-your Grace!…” Jon breathed out. “I-I’m sorry!…” he tried to get out of the pool and to cover himself with his hands at the same time.

“Jon, please… Jon!” Daenerys tried to make her voice as soothingly as possible, but Jon seems not even to hear her.

“Jon, I order you to stay!” Daenerys immediately feels a sting of guilt, commanding him like that.

_I shouldn’t talk to him like this. Not to him._

But it worked. Jon slowly lowered himself back into the pool, pulling his knees to his chest. He says nothing and does not look at her. Daenerys closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath to calm herself.

“Why are you fleeing from me? Am I so terrifying?”

“No! No, I just…didn’t want to disturb you, Your Grace.”

“Disturb me? I am the one who disturbed you and I apologies for it.”

“No! I…”

“Jon, stop it! Stop blaming yourself for everything that happens and stop apologizing for something you don’t have to apologize for.” Finally he looked at her with his endlessly sad eyes. “Thats what I’ve done my whole life, taking the blame and apologizing…for everything… for my very existence.“

“You are a king now. You can legitimate yourself. Or I can do it for you.”

“No!” Daenerys was surprised by the hardness in Jon’s voice. But it was gone the next moment. Once again Jon seemed to be afraid to do something wrong.

_Would it ever stop?_

“Stannis offered that to me once. I refused. I’m not a Stark and nothing can make me one.”

“If you don’t stop telling yourself that you are not worthy of any good you’re receiving, you’ll never be.” Jon looked at Daenerys as if he wanted to say something, but then he just shook his head and turned away.

_It can go like this forever._

“Jon, we are sitting here, enjoying a hot bath, that would cook every living thing. I am Deanerys Unburnt. What is your excuse?” If Jon ever looked panicked or scared, it was nothing against his expression right now. “I’m… I…”

“Jon, I know. _I know!”_ He gasped. “I’ve learned it before living King’s Landing. To be honest, I was afraid to come here, to see you. I dared not to hope it to be true and at the same time I was terrified that it would be. I didn’t know if I could handle you being like Viserys.” Daenerys let out a shattered breath. “Bur you… you are…” she suddenly couldn’t speak anymore. Daenerys wrapped her arms around Jon and hid her face in the crook of his neck. “I found you! I finally found you and no one will take you away from me!” Daenerys couldn’t remember when was the last time she allowed herself to cry. It didn’t matter, because now she couldn’t hold it any longer. She begun to sob and soon her whole body was throbbing. Jon finally managed to shake off his shock. He gingerly patted Daenerys’ back with his hand, which only made her snuggle to him even more. Jon could feel his own tears stinging in his eyes. He finally wrapped his arm around Daenerys. “I’m here and I’ll stay with you.”


	13. Jon/Dany VI + Tyrion/Sansa II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long waiting. Had some very busy weeks at my job, but now it's back to normal. Hope the next chapters wouldn't take so long.

“What’s wrong?” Daenerys lifted her head from Jon’s shoulder. “You didn’t liked it?”

Jon let out a heavy sigh “Of cause I liked it. But it shouldn’t have happened. We are…”

“Shhhh…” Daenerys pressed her finger to his lips. “Don’t start it again.” She kissed Jon tenderly and he couldn’t stop himself from responding. “Everything is the way it should be.”Daenerys placed her head back on Jon’s shoulder. “I grew up thinking I’m going to marry my brother Viserys one day. That’s how it was done for generations.”

“Still, it’s…”

“Jon, please!”

They were silent for a while. “How’d you know? Were you looking for me?”

“Varys, the Master of Whispers, told me before I left King’s Landing. He hadn’t known it for sure, but there were some old rumors. Here I found all needed confirmations.” Daenerys splashed some water into Jon’s face, he wrinkled his nose at it. “I wasn’t looking for you. Or better say, I didn’t know that I was looking for _you_. I only knew that something in my life was missing. I had no idea what it was until I’ve met you.”

They kept talking for a long time. About Drogo and Ygritte, duty, honor and loneliness. By the end Jon realized, that he too did found something, he didn’t even know he was desperately needing.

It was just before dawn, as they finally sneaked back into their rooms. Just in time before Tyrion literary dropped from the sky atop of Vyserion.

***

“I was expecting you tomorrow” Daenerys strode into the Great Hall, wrapping Jon’s cloak more tightly around herself. After hours spend in a hot pool, she could barely stand the cold.

“Your Grace.” Tyrion bowed his head. “We underestimated the effect of such low temperatures on the speed of your army. The Dothraki reached the chosen camp-side yesterday evening, those on foot will join them today. Only the Greyjoy fleet seems to arrive right on schedule.” Daenerys nodded “That’s fine by me. One more day of rest should do them good.” 

Jon entered the Hall, the usual frown on his face seemed to fade slightly as he approached Daenerys and Tyrion.

“My lord Tyrion! I’m glad to meet you again.”

“ _Your Grace!_ The pleasure is all mine.” Tyrion bowed, but his time Daenerys could swear, he was just trying to hide a smirk.“You’ve made quite a career since our last meeting.” Jon clenched his jaws but in the next moment a hearty smile lit up Tyrion’s face. “I always thought of you as the one who could accomplish something great and I’m glad that I was right.” Jon couldn’t have looked more surprised.

Deanery smiled. The way Tyrion was talking about Jon, as the news of him becoming the King in the North reached King’s Landing, showed how much he actually liked him. It was Tyrion, who persuaded her to send her army north to aid Jon in the fight with the Night’s King. And only after Daenerys agreed to it, Varys told her the whispers.

“Your Grace, may I ask you for a favor?” Tyrion addressed Jon. “In a couple of hoursan important… prisoner… will be brought here. May I ask…” Tyrion didn’t finish. His face tightened and the eyes became fixed at something behind Jon’s and Daenerys’ back. As they both turned they heads, they saw Sansa approaching from the far end of the Hall, pale and seemingly nervous. As she reached the group, Tyrion managed to gather himself and addressed her with a courtly bow.

“Lady Sansa, I am most delighted to see you well and finally back at home… after all that happened”

“Thank you my lord. I am also glad to see you…here.” There were an uneasy silence until Sansa spoke up again.

“Breakfast has been made ready, Bran is awaiting us.” 


	14. Jon/Dany VII + Tormund/Brienne VII

“And your father can confirm that?” Tyrion looked over to Meera.

“Yes, my lord.”

“Good, good.” He started drumming with his fingers on the table. “This might come in handy… later. I don’t think we should reveal such sensitive information just yet. And above all, not to the lords of the North. If I remember it right, those are a pretty stubborn bunch. Your Grace…” Tyrion nodded slightly in Jon’s direction “can’t risk to startle them right now. And it might bring up some difficulties regarding your wedding.” he waved at Jon and Daenerys.

“Wedding!?” everyone was staring at Tyrion, except Bran. “ _Yes, Your Graces, your wedding_. You can’t offer and accept a cloak in front of witnesses and not awaiting any consequences.” Jon and Daenerys looked at each other, shocked with a sudden realization. “You might not have taught about it in that moment, but in your position nor move or word can be considered meaningless.” he shrugged apologetically. “There was no need to send out spies, the word has already reached the loneliest hut in the woods. The whole North is buzzing, although they cannot quite agree upon it being an actual marriage or just a betrothal. I’m sure the lords will be awaiting to hear it from you at the tomorrow audience.” Tyrion raised his eyebrows, as he was looking back and forth between Jon and Daenerys. But they were just sitting there, pale and wide-eyed, seemingly unable to overcome their shock.

“It was a betrothal.” Bran’s emotionless voice ripped everyone out of their thoughts. All eyes darted towards him. “The wedding will take place tomorrow evening in the Goodswoods.” No one responded to his words.

“Well…” Tyrion shifted uneasy in his chair, giving the crippled boy a side glance. “If this matter is now clarified, we can move to the last problem at hand, Littlefinger.”

***

Lord and Lady Giantsbane from the Last Hearth.

Daenerys looked at the couple in front of her, trying not to show her amazement. They were huge, both of them. The tall blonde woman was wearing an enormous white cloak and the her ginger husband was wrapped in layers of furs. Jon already greeted him heathy. Daenedys wanted to follow his lead, but had to bite her lip to suppress a giggle. Tyrion came to her help.

“Lady Brienne! I am glad to meet you again an to have the pleasure to congratulate you.” he stepped forward with a bright smile on his face.

“Thank you, my lord.” the woman bowed her head, but the ginger just smiled back. Daenerys had to lower her head, to hide her grin in the collar of her coat.

“And Podrick!…” from behind the woman’s back a young squire came forward. Daenerys could swear, ha was barely holding back his tears. “Lord Tyrion…” the young man dropped on one knee and Tyrion rushed forward to embrace him in hearty hug. “Boy, am I happy to see you alive!”

Daenerys could finally gather herself to speak the proper words and was about to leave. This was not an official audience, just a quick greeting. It was late an everybody wanted to get his rest before tomorrow.

“Wait a moment!” Tyrion stepped back from the squire and was looking at the Brienne. “There were a raven from Tarth, not so long ago. The letter said you were married to a lord… can’t remember his name. He called himself a Warden of Tarth. So I’m a bit confused.”

Brienne’s eyes widened and her husband’s face twisted in disgust. “My lord, this man is lying. He forced his way into the trust of my old father. I too received a letter, telling that I will be proclaimed his wife, disregarding my absence. We sent an answer, that I am already married. Since then we got no word from Tarth.”

“Don’t worry, lady Brienne.” Daenerys took a step toward her. “This man will receive what he deserves of such an… act. As soon as I can go back south, I well tend to this matter personally.”

 

Tormund stayed to speak with Jon, so Brienne made her way to their quarters alone. Lady Sansa dismissed her right after the greeting. She was clearly distressed and Brienne wanted to stay with her, but lady Sansa just turned and walked away. Brienne caught the brief pained glance, lord Tyrion threw at the back of lady Sansa, as she passed by.

_Oh gods…this is not going to end well…_

As Brienne walked into the courtyard, she could see three men escorting a prisoner. It was already dark and she could see him only from behind, but something about him was strangely familiar. An uneasiness grew in her chest, as Brienne made her way to her quarters. As she pushed the door closed, Brienne shook her head, banishing a stupid thought from her mind.

_No, it couldn’t be him…_


	15. Tyrion/Sansa III

They sat in silence. Sansa was pocking at her plate absently, Tyrion forced himself to swallow down some bites. Daenerys more or less forced them to share a bedroom. And it seemed they have to share the bed as well, there was no other furniture to sleep on. Tyrion tried to smuggle in a bedroll, but it was confiscated. Daenerys could be really cruel sometimes.

“I’m sorry you have to bear my presence tonight.” Tyrion poured himself a glass of wine.

“It’s alright.” Sansa answered quickly, too quickly.

“And I’m sorry I wasn’t able to protect you.” Sansa looked at him in surprise. “I married you to protect you from my family, but it seems we are not the worst ones.” he let you a heavy sigh.

“I brought it upon myself, being so naive to trust Littlefinger. Foolish little girl. I was so happy to be able to escape King’s Landing… and you.” the last words no more than a whisper. Tyron's face twisted in pain. “Can’t blame you for that.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. You were always honest with me about your feelings. I appreciate it.” Tyrion poured himself another glass of wine and offered some to Sansa, but she shook her head. She sat stiffly in her chair, hands folded in her lap, pale and nervous. “But now we are in the lucky position to choose whom we marry next.” Tyrion’s voice sounded too cheerful and Sansa raised her eyebrows. “Well…” he cleared his throat, ashamed for his awkward attempt to lighten the mood. “Being the Hand of the Queen and heir to Casterly Rock seems to make every unmarried woman in Westerns to fall in love with you all of a sudden.” Tyron’s mouth twisted in disgust. “And from what I’ve heard you soon should become the most desirable woman in the North.” Sansa’s hand curled into fists “And everyone would want to marry me just to take what is mine.”

“I wouldn’t.” Sansa’s eyes darted to Tyrion, but he was staring into his wine-glass. They were silent for a while until Sansa spoke again. “The queen said, if we stayed married we would become…”

“…the most powerful family in Seven Kingdoms. And your children…”

“Our children” Sansa corrected him, but Tyrion shook his head, still staring into his glass. “No, yours.” Sansa gasped. “I gave you a promise once and do not intend to break it. I will accept your children as mine. My blood is not worth to be past on anyway.” Sansa’s mouth fell open and she just stared at Tyrion, unable to form any words.

“Why?… Why are you doing this?… Why are you… so kind… to me?”

“I thought it was pretty obvious.” Tyrion emptied his glad in a single take. “I love you.”

Sansa slipped from her chair to the floor, covering the face in her hands. Her whole body was shaking with violent sobs. Tyrion looked with shock at the young woman curled up on the floor, crying her soul out. He too slipped from his chair, but was reluctant to touch Sansa. How would she respond to it? Finally her gingerly placed his hand on her shoulder. The next moment Sansa grabbed his vest, pressing her face against his chest. Tyrion tumbled backwards, falling hard with his back to the floor.

***

Tyrion woke up from the pain in his back. He groaned and and tried to move, but realized that Sansa was still lying on top of him, clutching his vest. She cried herself into sleep and he must have succumbed to his own fatigue some time later. Sansa yawned and rose up from him, rubbing her eyes. Her face was still pink and puffy prom the tears, she never looked more sweet.

“Oh!” her eyes flew wide open, as she took in the situation. “I’m so sorry. I…”

“It’s alright. The least I can do is to serve as a pillow.” Tyrion tried to sat up, but his body did not respond well to it. He was stiff from lying on the cold stone floor and his back ached. Sansa watched his efforts and then suddenly grabbed his arms and pulled him into a sitting position. He almost cried out.

“Thank you.” Tyrion rubbed his back. “I would have carried you to bed, if I could.” Sansa giggled. “That would be a sight to behold.” He looked at her with surprise. There were sparks in her eyes, he hadn’t seen for a long time.

“I’ll try to mend the fire.” she stood up and walked to the hearth, while Tyrion was still trying to return his body back to life. Some moment later he felt a wave of heat on his back, the fire was back. And then once again Sansa grabbed him suddenly and pulled him to his feet. “Maybe _I_ should carry _you_ to bed?”

“Well, _that_ will be a sight to behold.” they both burst into laughter.

“It must be far into the night. We should get some real rest.” Tyrion walked to the far side of the bed. The merry moment was over, the reality came crushing back on him. He removed his boots an the vest, still wet from Sansa’s tears, and slipped under the blanket with the rest of his clothes still on. He could hear the rustling of Sansa’s discarded clothes.

_Don’t think about it. Just don’t._

He was lying with his back to her, on the very edge of the bed. “Good night.”

“Sleep well.”

***

Sansa new, she wouldn’t fall asleep. Her head and chest were so light, she felt so unbothered. She wished she could just walk out into the night and dance under the stars. Tyrion shifted beside her, he was still lying with his back to her. Somehow Snasa knew, he was just pretending to be sleeping. She tilted her head and for a long moment just looked at his dark blonde locks.

_In the dark, I am the Knight of Flowers._

“Tyrion…” 


	16. Tormund/Brienne VIII + everyone

Jaime was lying on the bed, staring at the sealing. He had eaten and even bathed, because Tyrion told him to. Now Jaime always did, what his little brother told him and only when he told him. Because Jaime Lannister was dead. His soul died on the stairs to the Iron Throne, with the dead body of his sister in his arms. But for whatever reason his body was still alive and Tyrion was putting a great effort into keeping it that way. Jaime did’t understood why, but he accepted it. That’s why Tyrion dragged Jaime with him, as the army sat out north. To let him stay in the capital, with Lady Olenna in charge during the Queen’s absence, would be his death. And as much Jaime wished it to happen, he was still alive and here in Winterfell of all places.

His guard for the night was a wildling. It seems nobody else was ready to seat throughout the night, guarding a door.

“Here you are, you piece of mooseshit! ” A voice came thundering down the corridor, accompanied by heavy footsteps. 

“Brother!” Jaime could hear his guard jumping to his feet. For some moments it appeared the two man would wrestle, but then a booming laughter filled the air.

“So, King Snow put you on guard duty?”

“Na! I volunteered. The southern lads would have turned into icicles by the morning.” Again a loud laughter.

“They just don’t know how to keep themselves warm.” There was a sound of some fluid being shaken in a waterskin, then a laughter, and then the two men went silent for a while.

“So, how’s you wife?”

“Came down a week ago, a boy.”

“Good! Then why are you staying here?”

“She likes it here. Got friends with the girls in the kitchen. And she likes the walls.”

“Hmmm…”

"And how's Giantsbane doing as a _lord_?"

"Dunno. But he's doing alright as a leader. And with such a wife..." the man chuckled. "Who would thought they have women like this in the south. There was some giant-blood involved, no doubt." both men laughed again. Jaime frowned unwillingly, as an unwelcome thought passed through his mind. 

"He made her try on in the _Cloak_."

"What? How dare..."

"It fits." the man sighted, Jaime's guard remained silent. "The White Lady."

"So the saying is true, the world we knew soon will be no more." now a heavy silence lasted much longer and Jaime started to sink into a slumber until a laugher dragged him back to consciousness.

"Here they go again. Can't keep their hands off each other for a day. You hear?"

Jaime could hear it, even trough the thick stonewalls. There were most definitely some savages fucking. He would have laughed at the ridiculous sounds, but insteadan uneasiness settled itself in his chest.

_No, I must be hallucinating…_

Jaime couldn't find his rest. It seemed the entire Winterfell decided to fuck the hell out of this night. As the savages were finally done, someone else took over. This time the sound came from the deep, traveling through the walls. One could imagine the castle itself was moaning with pleasure. And then, far into the night, almost before dawn, a woman cried out Tyrion's name, more than once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think sounds would travel so far in a medieval castle, but hey, it's a fantasy world after all. ;)


	17. Tormund/Brienne IX + everyone

The Great Hall was already crowded, as Jaime followed his escort inside. They did’n follow the passage, left the center of the hall, but walked along the wall, behind there crowd.

At the far and two great chairs were placed side by side, with four smaller ones placed a little behind them. The Dothraki and the Unsullied were taking their places as guard. Two of the smaller chair were already occupied by a bearded man, dressed too humble for his obviously high position, and Brandon Stark. The two were talking quietly to each other. A cold hand gripped Jaime’s heart at the sight of the crippled boy. The pain grew even stronger, as Jaime realized that his escort were bringing him straight to the boy. The bearded man looked up in concern. Jaime swallowed hard and opened his mouth…

“Don’t.” the boy wasn’t even looking at him. “This debt is payed.” the boy nodded at Jaime’s missing right hand and then returned to his conversation with the bearded man.

Jaime didn’t even realized how he was escorted to stand back at the wall. He was feeling a strange lightness, like a huge weight was lifted fro him. He looked down at his stump…

_Finally it’s making sense…_

Some movement in the crowed drew his attention back to the present. A new group took it’s place. Wildlings. Among them a large figure, wrapped in a white cloak. The lightness, Jaime was feeling just a moment ago, was instantly gone. The person in the white cloak was Brienne. She changed. Jaime couldn’t tell how, but she did. Sitting there, in between this savages, she seemed to be absolutely in comfort with it. Brienne turned her head to the man next to her, the one with wild ginger hair and beard, and whispered something to him with a smile. Jaime’s stomach twisted in disgust, as the memories of the last night came crushing down at him. How could it be? Brienne, the pillar of morality and honor… with… this animal. Jaime thought he was about to throw up, as the crowd begun to shift again. Sansa and Tyrion were approaching the two empty chairs. Sansa carried her head high, unable to suppress a triumphant smile. Tyrion walked beside her, seemingly happy.

Finally, the castellan announced the King and the Queen.

***

Lord Baelish stepped before the improvised thrones with his usual smile.

“Your Grace…”

“Seize him!” the queen’s vice was not loud, but firm. Five Unsullied came seemingly from nowhere and surrounded Littlefinger. He just looked around with shock-wide eyes, unable to respond with words.

“Lord Baelish” the queen continued. “You are accused of several crimes. First of all, the conspiracy against the Crown, which led to the deaths of King Robert and King Joffrey, Lord Jon Arryn,the execution of Lord Edward Strak and an attempt on my life. Further you are accused of murder of Lady Lisa Arryn, Sir Dontos Hollard, attempt on the life of Lord Brandon Stark and the kidnapping of Lady Sansa Lannister.”

Lord Baelish’s eyes darted to Sansa, only to find her smiling at Tyrion, as he was kissing her hand.

“I proclaim you guilty. The penalty is death.” 

***

Jaime was looking up to her from his bed, disgust and disappointment clearly showing on his face. They haven’t spoken a word, not even a greeting. Never had Brienne imagined their next meeting to be like this. Even after Tyrion told her what happened. Actually, he was hoping her visit would cheer Jaime up. Well, he was wrong.

Brienne cleared her throat and took in a deep breath. She need to explain it to him, make him understand. She even opened her mouth, but in this moment voices from the courtyard came crushing into this silence through the narrow window. Those voices she could make out in every crowd, the ones that became the dearest to her in such a short time. The never ending bickering between Munda and Podrick, this two couldn’t spend a single moment together without fighting. Brienne never understood why Tormund was so amused by it. The hight-pitched laughter of Ursula, that was almost painful to listen to. And above all that, thunderclaps of Tormund’s voice.

The air left Brienne’s lungs with a light sigh and she subconsciously tugged the cloak tighter around her tummy.Jaime shifted uneasy and was now looking at her with surprise. Brienne met his eyes and…

No! She don’t have to explain herself to _him_ , to anyone. The Maid of Tarth may have done it, but not the White Lady. So she raised her chin and squared her shoulders, taking pleasure in seeing Jaime’s eyes growing wider. Brienne nodded sharp, turned on her heels and left.


	18. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end  
> Hold your breath and count to ten  
> Feel the earth move and then  
> Hear my heart burst again
> 
> For this is the end  
> I’ve drowned and dreamt this moment  
> So overdue I owe them  
> Swept away, I’m stolen

The war was over, the Night’s King defeated and the winter gone. But there was no celebration, no merriment. The price of the victory was to high. The Night’s Watch was no more. They’ve taken the first blow, no one survived. The losses among the united armies of Westerns were beyond measure. Jaime Lannister was dead. His sacrifice turned the tides of the battle, saving the lives of many. He died a hero, with the name of his sister on his lips.

The North was devastated. It would take years, if not decades, to rebuild it. But they were eager to do it, to start right now, so they could forget everything that happened.

The Queen needed to return to the capital. She couldn’t wait to tell the world the truth about her King, to have a proper royal wedding and a coronation. Jon was still reluctant to accept his new role. But this time the lords of the North stood all as one and convinced him to accept it. He united them, secured the help of the Queen and defeated the darkness, so they were more then proud to see him as the King of Seven Kingdoms. And so Sansa was proclaimed Queen in the North. Bran officially renounced his claim of any title. But he would stay at Winterfell and lead the rebuilding of the North in Sansa’s absence. Although Sansa wasn’t eager to return to King’s Landing, Jon begged her to come and stay at least for the wedding. Tyrion was most happy, as she finally agreed. He still couldn’t quite believe in their new-found happiness and was secretly afraid it would disappear if they would be separated for several month. Especially in Sansa’s current condition.

Brienne and Tormund decided to travel south too. There was some business on Tarth, they wanted to tend to personally. Brienne’s white cloak was lost in the battle and Sansa insisted on making her a new one, that would fir better into the new warm climate. The to women seemed to get very close, tattling and giggling through the entire journey.

***

Lord Selwyn shifted uneasy in his chair. He hadn’t attended an official audience in month, maybe even in years. His age making itself more noticeable with every day. And the constant sorrow and worry about Brienne added even more weight onto his shoulder. There was no word from his daughter for so long. He would ask his young aide, who’s name Selwyn couldn’t never remember, if there were any news from her, but he always shook his head in denial. Lord Selwyn pushed the troubling thoughts aside with a heavy sigh. He has to welcome the emissary of the Queen and needed to be focused.

The castellan opened the heavy doors of the hall and stepped in. He gave the lord’s aide, that was standing at Selwyn’s right hand, a triumphant look and announced:

“The emissary ofQueen Daenerys… lord and lady Giantsbane!”

_What a strange name…_

With the corner of his eyes lord Selwyn could see his aide turn pale and stiff, but he had no time to wonder about it.Stepping through the doors, wrapped in a shining white cloak, was Brienne. With her chin raised and her back straight, she looked even taller then before. And there was something else about her, that Selwyn had never seen before, an aura of authority and power. Beside her walked a man, as tall and as broad as her, with ginger hair and beard.

“My girl!” Selwyn almost jumped out of his chair. The weight of his age disappearing from his body instantly. He hurried toward his daughter to wrap his arms around her in the most heartily embrace. The stood like this for a long moment, with tears in there eyes, unable to form any word. Finally Selwyn realized, that something else has about his daughter had changed. He pulled back to look surprised at her protruding round belly.

“Father…” Brienne’s voice was trembling. Selwyn raised his eyes to meet hers for moment and then finally looked at the man beside her, who just grinned proudly.

“Why hadn’t you sent a word?”

“I did…”

“You!” Selwyn’s face twisted in ager and his hands curled into fists. “You said there were nothing!” his voice filled the hall like thunder.

“M-m-my l-lord…” a pale lathy man was shaking all over. “I-I…”

“Shut up!”

“Father.” Brienne placed her hand and Selwyn’s shoulder. In the other she was holding a parchment with the royal sigil. “This is the royal decree. You a banned from the Seven Kingdoms and have a fortnight to leave. If you stay or ever come back, you shall be executed.” She held the parchment, awaiting the may to come to her and take it. He did, with shaky steps. As he took the roll, Brienne’s husband grabbed him at the back of his neck and shoved him hard towards the exit, so the man fall to his knees and crawled out of the hall an all fours.

“Father… This is my husband Tormund… He is…”

“…most welcome!”

***

Bran was sitting among the roots of the Weirwood Tree, letting the sun rays warn his face. His eyes were closed, so he couldn’t see a small woman approach silently. She stopped and watched him for a long moment.

“Welcome home.” he opened his eyes and looked directly at her, as if he knew were she was standing. The woman’s eyes widened in surprise, but after a heartbeat she smiled sadly.

“Does not feel like home right now.”

“Maybe one day.”  
“Maybe.”

“Where are you going?”

“I don’t know.”

“When you come back, would you tell me what lies west of Westeros?”

“If I come back.” the woman turned to live.

“Before you go, I would like to see your real face.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to apologize to those of you, who wanted more of Sansa/Tyrion. This couple was the most difficult for my to write, because their relationship is the least romantic. I just don’t know how to depict them. I think, that the post-S6-Sansa isn’t into romantic anymore, she lost all her illusions and dreams. She is just tired to be the pawn in games of others and want the power to play on her own. She should realize, that Tyrion is not her least worst option, but the best for he goals she want to archive. Together they could be the ultimate power-couple and Tyrion proved himself as the only one, who never tried to use or play her. After some time they could forge a bond, that is stronger than just love and affection.


End file.
